TRESA TIGWWA TSAW WAWAKAK
by ygyguii
Summary: The Really EPIC story about the incredible guy who was able to save a world with a weapon and kill a king.  TRESA TIGWWA TSAW WAWAKAK A parody of pretty much every action book/movie/game I can think of.
1. Vampire Voldemort and the Crack Head

When I woke up, the other side of my bed was cold. I thought about it for a while and then realized….that I was thinking the same thing Katniss did in the Hunger Games. My copy of the Hunger Games was on the desk next to my bed. It was still the night; there was a chill in the air, like it was every night in Tresa. I quickly snatched the book and examined it for no good reason; I really just liked the cover. There was that cool golden bird thing; I love birds. The Hunger Games was a really good book. I had recently finished it.

My eight year old sister, Hermia, had left my bed and gone to sleep in hers. I became fairly annoyed, because she woke me up in the middle of the night, saying she had a bad dream, and then she just goes and sleeps in her bed. I mean seriously? That's juts ridiculous.

Oh yeah, your probably really confused as to who the heck I am. My name's Tigwwa. I'm just your average guy. I'm not really special. I'm twenty three. My mom and dad both died. My dad died when the "forces" came and shot him and my mom died the same way when Hermia was two. And I still have no idea why they gave me such a ridiculous name. I mean Tigwwa? What kind of name is that? I don't really miss them. My dad was a really mean guy and my mom didn't help us, she was fat and lazy and ate all the food she got, so now is not really different from back then; I have to get food for me and Hermia.

Oh, I mentioned "forces" up there right? Yeah, the forces are the soldiers of the King. Now, I could sit here and write the extended version of who the king is but I know that we both don't have the time and energy for that…..I mean, I could be here for hours. So I'm going to make a long story short and say that there was this dude who got some magical powers, defeated the, well, everyone, killed the leaders of countries, and this dude must be really strong because he defeated Russia, and that just goes against the laws of nature or so I'm told because I wasn't really born before the time of the King.

The king expanded his empire. He actually started in Russia; he was Russian. Soon, the whole world was covered in the darkness of the King. Everywhere, except for a small island of the coast of Canada, so small that the King did not notice it; it was my island. We lived in peace since we were not part of the empire.

I was never a person for sleeping a lot. I got up, stretched, glanced back at Hermia, took up my knife and went outside. I was very interested in hunting game. On our island, villages are what make up the places where people live while the rest is wilderness, places where people can hunt game. We needed some more food at home so I figured I should go. I still liked doing it though.

I walked through the forest, the night was still cold. The trees looked tall, dark and menacing in the darkness and there was an scary silence. I was walking and then I heard something that severely pierced the silence. Something….strange. It sounded like a snake. What it exactly sounded like was something like _sacath, seth hacktha, noseth ack ash san_. I looked into the distance. Something extremely pale white was approaching. It came close to me and I saw it. Its horrible nose deprived face and lip deprived mouth. I saw it, and I instantly recognized it.

"Voldemort?" I asked.

The being did not answer he just stood still.

"No, this is impossible, you died in 1998!" I shouted out. I had known that Voldemort was real, not just a character in a book, or so my parents had told me. Apparently the King revealed the wizarding world to us. He was not a wizard, but because of his magical powers he was able to go into the wizarding world disguising himself as a wizard, expose it and destroy it.

There was a moment of silence. The creature just stood, unmoving. It then opened its mouth, bared its fangs and attacked me. I fought it off and slit its throat. It fell to the ground. I reached in my pouch and grabbed the holy water that I always had with me in a small tube before it could get up again. In sprinkled the water on it and it melted like the water was acid. I put the tube back in my pouch.

"Damn those vampires," I said to myself. Well, technically they were already damned, though they may have been good but once you are bitten by a vampire you must drink blood and you will be damned for that. This isn't twilight were animal blood works and you get an eye change. Stephanie Meyer knew nothing about vampires. They don't sparkle, ever. They melt and die. The only time you might be able to go to heaven when you are vampire is when a person kills you before you drink anybody's blood.

I always had holy water on me because the rate of vampire turnings was getting higher and higher and I needed to protect myself. Hermia also always had holy water on her, although she was almost never out of my sight. Key word: almost. I was out here; I wasn't watching Hermia at this time.

I learned something very important that day. Not every person without a nose is Voldemort. They might just be a person pretending to be Voldemort to get people to be in shock and let their guard down.

After being attacked by a vampire I felt that I should have probably have gotten out of the forest for a while. It was about 5:00 in the morning and it was still the night; it was still cold. There was a person in our community that got up a bit earlier than I used to get up and his name of Old Man Steven and he had a reputation for being well…a crack head. He was greatly touched in the head. However, we didn't have rehab or a mental institute or any place that could help Old Man Steven. Despite this, I decided to pay him a visit; I didn't really have anything else to do.

He lived in a house on the near outskirts of the center of the village. His house was a very large, yet extremely worn down cardboard box. As expected, he was looking curiously at his surroundings, as if he had just awakened from a coma of about 20 years and was looking at his new environment.

I walked up in front of him and said, "Good morning Mr Steven." He did not answer, he just kept looking around. I repeated my statement three times. Then, I became irritated. I grabbed him by the shoulders and furiously shook his frail, hairy, poorly kept body shouting, "Good morning Mr. Steven!" repeatedly. After some time I just dropped him. I decided that I would say it one more time and if he did not answer I would just leave the crack head.

"Good morning Mr. Steven," I said gently again. As I said this, Old Man Steven jumped as if I had appeared out of nowhere and had just said it.

"Ah! Oh, hello my lad," he said to me.

"I was wondering if you would like some company," I said back to him.

"Oh, sure! Sure!" he responded enthusiastically.

I sat down around the small fire in front of his fire. I tried as well as possible to make small talk.

"So, how's it going?"

Old Man Steven stared at me.

"Is anything wrong?" I asked him.

"No, it's just that…..what kind of dumb faggot bitch says 'how's it going?" he responded.

And I wasn't offended. Old Man Steven always said things like that.

"Um…well, I'm doing fine," I tried to respond politely.

After that I tried talking to him and it went fairly well, considering I was trying to talk to a crack head. We started talking about the problems of the Tresa; the poverty, the King and his empire, Tsaw, which might find us eventually. When the forces found us that one time and killed my parents, five came and we were able to kill them all before they escaped and reported back to the King.

"Hey, do you know the _real _name of the King?" I asked him.

"Well, we're not really supposed to talk about it, that's why we refer to him as the King, or sometimes, you-know-who."

"Well, maybe you can right it down."

"No. I can't spell it. Okay, here goes. His name is….What's His Face."

At that very time a wolf sounded in the distance.

"What's his face?" I asked him for assurance.

And the wolf howled again.

"Shh, Shh. Yes that's it. Fuckin' bitch took my home in Canada and I had to move here. You know I've never heard you curse. Can't you do it?"

"I don't really curse," I said. It was really part of my ideals that I shouldn't curse; it was in the Bible.

"Bullshit," he said angrily to me.

At that moment I saw the golden sun appear slightly out of the darkness. Dawn was approaching and something hit me. I had spent to much time with the crack head. I needed to get back to Hermia.


	2. Invasion

"I'm sorry Mr. Steven but I must go."

"Oh, so soon?"

I really didn't think at that point that the crack head realised that I'd been sitting in front of that cardboard box around that fire for about two hours. But he just said "Oh, so soon," which, as far as I'm concerned, is a cheesy phrase and he just chewed me out for saying a cheesy phrase, so I wondered who was really the dumb, faggot, bitch? By the way those are his words not mine.

"Yes. I'm very sorry."

I left him and walked briskly. I knew that it would take me some time to get back to Hermia considering was it Old Man Steven's house which was on the outskirts of the town and mine was in the interior, almost to the centre, of the village.

I entered the main part of the village. Small, dusty, worn down houses lined the road and I was reminded of that dusty, worn down cardboard box that Old Man Steven lived in. And after that conversation I had with him, whenever I thought of starved, retarded, dumb, faggot, bitches I'd be thinking of him.

We didn't have any roads in Tresa, we just had ugly, unfertile, stony soil and what made matters worse is that we didn't have shoes. Call me pessimistic, but you've never seen Tresa or its ground. My feet burned and some recently healed cuts that I had gotten on my feet from walking had reopened. But I couldn't stop. At that point I started asking myself the question 'Why the heck did I come out here? To get jumped by a vampire?' I shouldn't have gone outside as much as I did because that just made me angry and there was a process where I decided never to go outside again, then a few days later I decided to go outside and the process repeats itself.

The sun broke further and further through the clouds. I was almost to my house. Then, something happened. I heard something that I will remember for the rest of my life. On a loudspeaker he spoke:

"Knock knock!"

The people of Tresa always loved a good knock-knock joke. We lived in a village near the beach and everybody looked. They looked at the gigantic cruise ships docked in our ports. The forces were docked in our beach. They seemed to be having a fun time on that ship. I mean, they had shuffleboard, croquet, brunch buffets and, best of all, slime, which they probably took from the Nickelodeon cruise before Nickelodeon ended. I had heard so much about that cruise. It was apparently very fun. We had one jar of slime and the people liked to hold it and feel it but now it was very dirty. Anyways, back to business. What we all chorused was:

"Who's there?"

"Ash!"

"Ash-hoo?"

"Bless you!"

We all fell to the ground in pain, squirming. What we definitely couldn't take was a bad knock-knock joke. The man with the loudspeaker spoke again:

"Why did the chicken cross the road?"

He continued without getting a 'why' in a horrible enthusiastic voice that sounded like something mixed with a circus accent, a commercial accent and a blender.

"To get to the other side!"

And the whole row of cruise ships broke out in horrible, fake laughter like one of those people in the 40s movies that claimed to be 'normal' but we all know that no one talks or laughs that way.

We all squirmed on the ground more. It was terrible. Then I was thinking of her. Hermia had to be terrified, especially without me. Apparently they felt that we had had enough so they departed from their ships and went from the beach into the village. They came with guns, swords, axes, maces and bad ring tones; all dangerous weapons.

Not only did they murder us, some of these murders slow and painful, especially the ring tones, but they also tortured us. As soon as I had recovered I ran to get Hermia but I looked to the side and saw the torture of a man.

"Yo' mama so ugly, she looked out the window and got arrested for mooning!"

"Please! Stop. Stop! I beg of you!"

He clutched the forces soldier's leg.

"Yo' mama so stupid she cheat of o' yo' test paper!"

The man clutched the soldier's leg in pain and yelled, but his voice was drowned in the screams of everyone else. It was then that the soldier decided to put him out of his misery and shoot him. I ran faster at the thought of that happening to Hermia.

I saw her. I looked and saw her and I stared in disbelief. I shouted and screamed but it made no difference. A forces soldier stood five feet from her with a gun pointed at her. He pulled the trigger and, despite all the screams, that noise was the only thing I could hear.

But he missed. Now when that happened I considered two possibilities. One possibility is that this guy just had really bad aim. Another possibility was that the guy just wanted to be really contrary to action sequences. Either way I was happy.

I pulled out my knife and drove it through his long neck. Blood spewed out like a volcano and I violently kicked him to the ground. That was the first time I killed a man.

"Come with me, Hermia," I said to her.

"Sure, bother," she said to me. She couldn't pronounce her 'r's very well so it sounded like 'bother' instead of 'brother.'

I dragged her by the arm. I knew there was only one thing I could do. Something that we installed in case the forces came. We needed to use the "NEVER use this machine" machine. It was really a giant catapult that was strong enough and large enough to throw us to Tsaw, hence the term "NEVER use this machine" machine.

We ran through the village. Everyone was dying. Eventually we reached the catapult. Hermia and I stood on it. It was then that I saw that everyone was dead. No one survived and the forces soldiers were coming for me. I raised my knife and brought it down to cut the rope which would allow the machine to throw us but at that same time they opened fire. The machine was activated but even in the fast-paced heat of the moment I still saw that one bullet connect with Hermia's back.


	3. Captured

We were there in Tsaw. Although I was the only one alive we were there. My arms clutched her limp body. I could have sat there, cradling her dead body all day and all night for the next hundred years when I can could have died as well but I knew that I had to kill What's His Face for his evil.

I carried her over to the grass and dug for many hours. I placed her in the grave and covered the grave with dirt.

"Goodbye Hermia."

I reluctantly left the grave. I walked for about ten minutes before I realised that all that digging made me tired. I walked but then I got so tired that I collapsed and fell asleep.

I was in complete darkness. I didn't know where anything was. All I could hear was a piercing scream, a blood curdling scream that pierced anything else that could possibly be there. I listened and realised in was coming from in front of me. I ran.

I ran faster and faster and in the distance a faint image revealed itself to me. I ran faster and faster; I needed to see what it was. Then, I approached it. And I saw him.

"Don Cobb?"

"You need to-"

"Get out of my mind!"

I grabbed him and wrestled him. I punched him and kicked him. I was about to deliver another blow when he said:

"Stop! Stop! I need to tell you something very important."

"What?"

"Some people have captured you in the real world. They will seem very threatening but whatever you do not attack them. They will kill you."

"And why should I do what you say?"

"Because I'm a spy. And if we can't trust spies, what man can we trust?"

"True."

My dream collapsed. The darkness faded and I was in the sun, bound by ropes with native-looking people staring at me.

"What do the numbers mean?"

"What? Who the heck are you?" 

"What do the numbers mean? What is the answer? Who created them? Answer me bitch!"

"Kiss my ass!"

Normally I wouldn't curse but they were just frustrating me. One of them held a knife to my throat.

"You can't kill me!"

"Answer Bond! Do you not understand? The world is on the brink of fucking war!"

"Whose war? Who the fuck are you anyway? Wait…who the fuck is Bond?"

"Do not fuck with me Bond! We know you are an English spy! Only you can translate the number codes for us."

"What the fuck! I don't even have a fucking British accent! Are you fucking crazy?"

"You are just disguising your accent. We know who you are!"

"Fuck you! Why the fuck would a spy want to disguise his fucking accent?"

"Why would we know? We are not English spies like you Bond!"

"Fuck you! You're fucking crazy ass bitches. All of you!"

After our um….. 'conversation' he muttered something to one of his friends and he picked me up and carried me into a cave. He threw me in a cellar and slid a paper underneath the door. I picked it up and looked at it. The paper read:

**2+2=  
><strong>

"You will not leave the room until you transfer the number codes and use it to build weapons for us," the man said from behind the door. 

"What the fuck? How the fuck am I supposed to build shit with this?"

"Figure it out!"

I sighed and sat in a chair. I looked at the simple problem again. I decided I might as well answer the question. I tried to look for a pen.

"I can give you a pen," a Russian voice said from behind me.

I looked and saw a scarred, long-bearded Russian man sitting on the chair. He was very muscular but looked depressed and worn down like Old Man Steven's cardboard box. I was scared because I didn't know who he was.

"Um….who are you?" I tried to ask as politely as possible.

"Oh….me? I'm Viktor Dragovich," he responded.

"Oh, okay. Can I have a pen?"

"Oh. Yes, of course."

He took a pen out of his pocket and threw it to me. I caught it in my hand and picked up the paper with the problem and wrote a four to the right of the equal sign. At that time I remembered what Don Cobb said to me.

"Viktor, do you know anything about Don Cobb?" I asked him.

"Oh, yes. He warns anyone who is captured by these monsters to be careful with them. I heard you cursing them. You should not curse, you know."

It was then that the reality that I had said all of these bad things hit me. I shouldn't have. I said a quick prayer to God asking for forgiveness and said:

"Yes, I know. I sort of…..lost control."

"I understand. They want you to make weapons. No matter what they do to you must not make a scrap for them. What is your name?"

"Tigwwa Redd. At least someone does not believe I am not this Bond person they keep talking about."

"Yes. They think everyone who stumbles upon their land is a spy. Only one spy has ever stumbled on their land. He told them his name and escaped. 'Bond. James Bond' he said his name was. Ever since then they have been hunting him down, wanting greatly to kill him."

I walked up and began pacing.

"What should I do Viktor?" I asked him.

"Do not worry Tigwwa. I have a plan."


End file.
